


A big step

by lwielaura (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wedding Fluff, english is not my first language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lwielaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sherlock's and John's wedding as Sherlock decides to deliver a speech.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A big step

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Die Größte Geste (JOHNLOCK Eintopf)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/64101) by Lwielaura. 



„May I have your attention, please?“  
Immediately the room turned into silence. John who just chatted jauntily with Lestrade looked up in surprise. Surprised because Sherlock wanted to say something and surprised about the slight insecurity upon his face, which didn’t fit to his usual behaviour at all.  
But he stood in front of the crowd, dressed in his admirable tuxedo, his hair in its usual dishevelled wildness, the pale face beautiful as usual, looking better than ever. Maybe it was the ring, shining since a few hours silver and inconsiderable from his left ring finger, at least shining for John, who was wearing exact the same on his right hand, proofing that this man who always was regarded as aloof and inaccessible would spend the rest of his life with him.  
“Actually I’m not good at what I’m going to do. Frankly, it’s the only thing I’m not good at.”  
He heard Mycroft snorting behind him and his irritation grew as he sat up a bit, eyes focussed on Sherlock, who avoided a look into the crowd, still staring at the floor which seemed to be quite interesting suddenly; John knew his husband (his heart went faster as he used this expression for the first time) well enough to know that he was nervous. He wore the same expression as in the night he proposed and also the same look as the words “I love you” first crossed his lips.  
“In all the time we had together I never managed to say what I needed to say. As I thought about my words for today I realized that I don’t even know our anniversary.”  
Lestrade’s commentary was far too loud: “Which one? The day we knew you were together or when you finally understood?” Some people laughed quietly and even John felt his lips forming an embarrassed smile but Sherlock just looked up a little spacy. He blushed a little, something very extraordinary.  
“Well, yes… Nevertheless, I wanted to start from the very beginning. Since my childhood I preferred to be all alone, not always voluntary, to be honest. I learned how to handle my life that way, kept telling me that having friends was human error, unnecessary and uninteresting. Other people would be boring. I never needed anybody but me. What remained was the boredom but I helped myself with…. certain things. But time passed and I stayed alone and didn’t know what to do with my life so I applied myself to my work, the only thing I had back then.”  
No one said a word. No one dared to make a sound. The facial expressions of the people ranged from sad to astonished, no one knew how to handle with this situation, Sherlock revealing himself although he never did that before except to John, who couldn’t avert his eyes from his husband, the one he loved so much and whose words meant the world.  
He cleared his throat and went on with a rather brittle tone of voice: “The day Mike Stamford introduced me John Hamish Watson I was absolutely convinced that he would be like everyone else. Boring as usual and, before anything else, gone in a few days, unable to beare me – just like everyone else.” It was just a short moment but John was awake enough to capture the deep pain flitting across Sherlock’s face and he wanted him to stop, didn’t want to know how the story would go on but he remembered that it ended today, the day of their wedding.  
“But John was… different. I thought I would know everything relevant about him within a few seconds, the army doctor from Afghanistan with the drinking brother – I beg your pardon, Harry.”  
Harriett, sitting next to John, just smiled and winked.  
“But on the next day, in the cab, he asked me how I could know and I deduced because that’s what I’m doing and received an unusual reaction.”  
His face contorted with the marks of years of denial, just for a short instant but long enough to recognize.  
“I deduced that he was impressed and for the first time I took into consideration that this man might be different.” John couldn’t resist a smile as he thought about his excessive ardour at that time. But he never thought that this moment would affect Sherlock so much.  
“Then we went to Angelo’s. We had dinner because our case required it and I remember our dialogue perfectly. I deduced that he was bloody embarrassed in contemplation of our conversation and how I misunderstood his questions about my love life. And as usual I pointed out, as indelicately as possible, that I was only interested in my work, just in the moment Angelo came, lighting up a candle and telling that it would be much more romantically for a date.”  
Most heads turned to the Italian who smirked and stuck his thumb in the air.  
Sherlock smiled his crooked smile and John thought that in this moment he looked like a young god; he licked his lips nervously.  
“It was probably our first date although no one knew that.”  
“Exactly, no one but everyone here.”, Mrs. Hudson crowed and drank the rest of her sparkling wine zippy up.  
“Just a couple of hours later we solved our first crime and he… let’s say stopped me from making a huge mistake I was about to do. And saved my life. And then I saw him just standing there and I deduced that he would be indispensable.”  
He took a short brake, leaving behind the curious silence, trying to find the right words to say.  
“And then I remember him travelling to Dublin, without me, and as I stood in Baker Street, all by myself, playing the violin, talking to him until I realized that he wasn’t there, I sat down a few hours, trying to think but I could do what I want, I always ended up at John. And I deduced that there is more in life, more in me, in him and in us.”, he lowered his voice towards the end.  
From somewhere a loud sobbing resounded. Mrs. Holmes, a quite odd old Lady had started to cry, obviously hearing such words from her son for the first time ever.  
“But you know that. And we all know how the story ends so far, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. John…”  
John looked up affectionately, a soft smile upon his lips, as theirs eyes met. He held his breath in expectation.  
“You bear me. You bear that fingers are lying next to the milk, in case that there is any, you bear it when there is a huge mess in my head and I start to play the violin in the middle of the night, you bear the busy Sundays at which I drag you to the cruellest crime scenes, you bear that I sometimes – always – am tactlessly and you bear it that I quit talking to you for days sometimes. I don’t believe I ever will find someone like you again because either way you love me or you are an utterly idiot.”  
The crowd laughed and after John blinked a few times he joined them.  
“I assume both. And no matter why, I’m grateful that it is the way it is. You helped me escape a loneliness I never knew I was living in but I never want to go back. I feel like I lived in absolute darkness before you came and lit an enormous light, leading me the way.”, Sherlock constantly stocked, just like the whole thing required him a major effort. John remembered his husband’s innuendos in the past referring to the texts he used to write his countless girlfriends.  
Realizing that this was the exact thing that happened in this moment, that Sherlock Holmes revealed his adoration for him in front of the assembled company made him smile more than happily.  
There was no word for this kind of emotions that flooded him, rushing through his veins and making his heart go faster. He felt goose bumps and embarrassingly his eyes becoming suspiciously wet.  
“You are the only one who makes the boredom go away and who leaves me in surprise sometimes. And you are the only one I would ever let enter my life voluntarily. Because, first and foremost, I deduce that I love you.”  
John let the words put an impression on him, trying not to drown in them.  
The thing Sherlock just did, it was… he never received a proof of love like this and he was absolutely sure that there was no bigger, no better, it was the best thing he… he bit his lip.  
Dazed he heard the crowd cheering and felt Sherlock taking a seat next to him, his eyes focussing on him a little insecure. All the faces turned to them were unimportant, just people at the limits of his appreciation, as he pulled his Detective at his collar, kissing him like he never kissed someone before Sherlock in his life, until his breath was gone and his heart couldn’t control itself anymore.  
They both blushed a little bit as they remembered the people around them, still cheering.  
But John didn’t care. Everything that counted today was Sherlock, just Sherlock and him.  
“We should really cut the cake. Mycroft is getting really nervous.”, John whispered.  
“Just let him wait.”, Sherlock mumbled, kissing him again.”


End file.
